Dark Rebirth
by Widu
Summary: Defying Jaheira, a guilt-ridden Talimar of Candlekeep tries to have Khalid brought back to life. A two-piece Baldur's Gate II story - all I've got time for these days :/ Slight warning for not being all that fluffy.


**Dark Rebirth**

The priest of Helm's armoured finery shone in the soft light that filtered through the stained glass temple windows. The young half-elf who had sought Sir Donalus's audience cared little for the austere appearance. He carried a sword himself, but the rest of his bearing, from the bracers he wore to the amulet around his neck, called out _mage_. Not a good word in Amn, but this one was owed by the priesthood for ridding the city of an insidious underground cult. The cultists were responsible for blinding their own followers and a significant number of ritual killings, all in the name of their 'god' – an ancient, powerful monster that now fortunately lay dead.

The boon he claimed was no reward in gold, although he certainly could have used it. Passage to the island prison of Spellhold did not come cheap, and those who offered it demanded a sum that matched his despair. He'd be one step closer to Spellhold, his poor captured friend Imoen and Irenicus, the mysterious mage that had tortured them both – but he could not accept. Not yet. Between all his nightmares and visions, one image continued to haunt him – that of his closest friend and guardian Khalid, broken en desecrated.

Talimar had seen death before. Being the child of a god of murder did that to you, and like any seasoned warrior he knew that a dead man's remains were just that – a husk left behind. Yet after the terrible world of waking dreams the mage Irenicus had introduced him to, a place where he could no longer tell what was real, seeing what used to be Khalid like this had affected him deeply. The sight of destruction and the smell of decomposition had somehow tainted the memory of his friend as well.

At Talimar's suggestion they search for a means of restoration, Jaheira had shouted him down, stating that at some point, there should be no raising... especially with the body in such a state. They left what would be Khalid's grave, but not before it seared itself into Talimar's mind. He respected Jaheira's druidic beliefs and love for her husband, yet horror, pain and guilt trapped and tormented him whenever he was too worn out to steel himself. The same feelings now brought him to the temple, though it was not to seek solace.

"You have the focus?" the knight asked.

Talimar nodded and held out a simple wedding ring. It held no gem, just an elven design of silver and golden leaves.

"Good." The Helmite led Talimar into a small antechamber smelling of incense. It was centered around an unadorned marble altar. The cleric tending to it was a handsome man somewhere in his fifties, with blond hair gradually yielding to the colour of old ivory. The prominent holy symbol around his neck inlaid with gold and rose quartz marked him as a senior priest of Lathander.

Sir Donalus placed the ring on the altar. One of two attendants sprinkled a circle of holy water around it, and Donalus indicated the cleric. "This is morninglord Areon and two of his dawnbringers. While we servants of the Watcher are powerful in our own right, the... nature of your request makes it better suited to the clergy of Lathander."

That made sense, the Lathanderites had desired the eradication of the cult of the Unseeing Eye as much as the Helmites. Donalus still seemed ill at ease, however. If Areon noticed, he did not pay any attention to it. "Did you explain the risks of resurrection to the young man?"

The question irritated Sir Donalus, but his reply was polite enough. "He knows. And wishes to stay for the ritual, though I advised him not to."

"Very well. Then let us begin."

Sir Donalus bowed and left to attend his other duties. One of the other priests produced a fat diamond from a velvet pouch, and with a few whispered words, turned it into a myriad of brilliantly sparkling particles. They were scattered along the altar around the ring and the drops of holy water. The morninglord placed one hand on his holy symbol, closed his eyes and raised his rich voice in a melodious chant. The dawnbringers joined in, one male pitch and one female. Talimar edged closer to the wall. He was an outsider here, as always.

With the rise and fall of the song, translucent shapes started to form on the altar, coalescing into humanoid bones that finally took on solidity. Bolstered by their progress and the joy of communion with their god, the priests' prayer gained momentum. The harmony and its eerie beauty reflected darkly in Talimar. On the cold marble surface, so gruesomely similar to Irenicus's dissection table, tissue and organs appeared on the white bones.

The half-elf tensed, drenched with sweat. The macabre sight reminded him vividly of the intrusion on Khalid's lifeless body as well as his own – things laid bare that should have remained untouched. He silently thanked the gods the clerics' attention was not on him. Trembling, he slid down the wall, his head bowed so he could no longer see.

He did not know how long he sat there, curled up into a shivering ball, when he noticed the chant had stopped. A light tap on his shoulder brought him face to face with the female dawnbringer. She looked kind, if concerned. He followed her to see what he'd paid for, perhaps more dearly than he cared to.

To the casual observer, Khalid looked fully restored. The priests even thoughtfully dressed him in a simple shift and put the ring back on his finger. There was no light in his murky green-brown eyes, however, not a single spark of recognition. Talimar knelt in front of the altar like a supplicant pleading to every god who deigned to listen. They must all be busy, because no touch or word had the slightest effect. Or maybe they simply did not care. Sir Donalus had given him fair warning. He rested his damp brow against the cool marble.

On the altar, Khalid stirred. The older half-elf sat up and raised his head. Something flared to life in his blank expression. His unresponsive gaze changed, his fists clenched and he screamed in pure, straight-out terror. The tortured cries continued until morninglord Areon took pity and placed a gentle hand on Khalid's head. The soothing incant made him collapse with a sigh. His hands uncurled, and Talimar saw blood seep from the cuts his friend's new nails had dug into his palms.

"What have I done?" he whispered brokenly. He rose to his feet and dragged himself out of the antechamber. The cleric called out after him, but he didn't listen. There was someone he had to see. And she might never forgive him.


End file.
